


"Love" by Jack Zimmermann

by writingonpostcards



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 19:30:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12637677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingonpostcards/pseuds/writingonpostcards
Summary: “I watched the videos.” Bitty says again, trying to restart a conversation but not knowing what else he should say.“I wanted you to,” Jack says softly, looking down at the carpet.“There were, uh, a lot of me.”“They’re all of you,” Jack corrects.





	"Love" by Jack Zimmermann

“Come in.” Bitty thanks the lord for the legitimate reprieve from the essay he’s been painfully forcing himself through all afternoon.

Jack enters, looking happier than normal. Bitty sees why immediately, and the smile that came onto his face when he saw Jack slips right back into a frown. Jack’s holding another memory card.

“I’m got some new footage,” Jack says in confirmation of Bitty’s fears.

“Jack, you’ve got to stop giving me new material.”

Jack’s smile drops at Bitty’s harsh tone, and his eyebrows draw together in a way that would be adorable if not for the circumstance and the fact Bitty is the one to make them that way. “Why?”

“Coz, honey, it’s not gonna help.” Bitty’s too exhausted to bother being embarrassed that the endearment slipped out.

Jack opens his mouth lamely. He looks down at the memory card in his hand then back to Bitty with sad eyes.

“Sit down.” Bitty gestures to his bed, thankful that he made it earlier while procrastinating. He rubs his sore eyes as Jack perches on the bed, then sighs out.

“Your assessment is to create a two-minute video based on love, yes?”

Jack nods. Bitty rubs at his eyes again, thinking of how to be honest without being hurtful.

“You’re an amazing photographer, and it comes across.” Jack picks his head up, looking hopefully at Bitty. It breaks his heart to have to continue. “But there’s no _story_ here. There’s no love. I mean, unless your story is that you really love your camera. I can’t… I’m sorry, I can’t help you make anything out of this.”

Bitty tries to make his voice gentle. Jack turns his head away from Bitty anyway, but not quick enough that Bitty can’t see the hurt.

Bitty’s happily been helping Jack with his AV assessment after Jack asked. He gets to spend time with Jack doing something that Jack loves. But now he owes it as a friend to tell Jack the truth, even if it makes them both sad.

“Sorry, Bits,” Jack mumbles, still not looking at him.

“It’s alright.” Bitty already feels a little guilty for springing it on Jack with no warning. He crosses his arms, then realises that may come across as defensive if Jack ever looks back at him, so rests them back on his knees. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, I just want you to do well.”

Jack gives a brisk nod, but still avoids looking back at Bitty.

Bitty’s not sure what else he can do for Jack, so he simply waits.

Jack clears his throat after a moment and stands up. He looks at the memory card before putting it into a pocket.

“Thanks anyway. Sorry for interrupting your essay.”

“It’s alright,” Bitty repeats, but Jack’s already out the door.

Bitty slumps into his seat and stares at his closed door. He really didn’t mean to hurt Jack, but he didn’t think what he said would be that much of a shock either. Jack’s not ignorant to emotion, no-matter what the news articles sometimes say about him.

He swings his chair back round to stare at his essay, starting up on it again as a distraction.

-

A few hours later, after a rushed dinner and checking over his twitter feed, Bitty’s essay is a few hundred words longer and his eyes are drier for it.

A tentative knock sounds at his door and Bitty almost would have missed it if not for the louder creak of a floorboard that accompanied it.

“Come in,” he says, shutting his eyes and pressing his palms against them. When he looks over, he gets a strong sense of déjà vu. Jack is standing a single step inside his room, holding a memory card.

Bitty turns his chair properly and sits up straight. He bites his lip, feeling nauseous that him and Jack may be about to repeat the same awkward conversation from earlier.

“You were right,” Jack says. He moves the memory card between his fingers in a nervous gesture. “There wasn’t a story.”

Bitty nods, even though Jack can’t see him.

“Truth is, I…” Jack holds his breath, then pushes it out in a loud gust.

He looks up at Bitty, and Bitty is struck by how open Jack’s expression is. More emotion on his face than Bitty’s seen in a long while.

“I didn’t realise until the project, so it was… overwhelming for me.”

Jack looks at Bitty with some kind of willing behind his expression that Bitty just isn’t following. Jack’s realised something, is what he said, but Bitty doesn’t know what it is, and is seems like Jack expects him to.

“Jack, I don’t-” Bitty starts, clasping his hands together.

“It’s fine. You don’t know what I’m talking about. Yet. I—Here.” Jack walks over to Bitty and hands him the memory card after a moment’s hesitation.

Bitty takes it, keeping his eyes on Jack’s as he does so.

“That’s my story,” Jack tells Bitty.

-

Bitty forces himself through the remainder of his essay before he thinks about looking at what’s on the memory card. It’s another hour or so until he’s up to the word count and his conclusion is done. In all honestly, his body aches from sitting at his desk most of the day and he just wants to flop face first onto his bed and sleep.

There was something about the way Jack looked at him earlier though, and something about the careful way he offered Bitty the memory card, that spoke to its contents holding a level of importance to Jack.

It’s enough to convince Bitty to watch it tonight.

He saves his essay onto his backup drive then gets out the connector for Jack’s memory card and plugs it in. Once the folder is open, he copies the twenty files across to where he’s saved the rest of Jack’s footage on his laptop.

He’s about to watch Jack’s story, which means—if Bitty understood what Jack was implying earlier—he’s about to see what or who Jack loves.

He takes a deep breath before clicking play on the first video, marked with a time and date almost two months ago. It’s footage from a picnic that Ransom and Holster had arranged. Bitty smiles as Jack’s camera pans across the happy faces of Shitty, Lardo, himself, Holster, and Ransom. It’s not a long video, but Jack frames them perfectly with the lake in the background.

Bitty can’t understand why Jack’s been hiding footage from Bitty. He loves his team. Bitty laughs softly, aware it’s late at night. It’s so very Jack, to realise that love to him is what he feels for his teammates, and then to feel… Bitty can only guess really. Feel shy, perhaps, and that he has to hide it.

Bitty shakes his head, jotting down in a notebook what the first video contains, and starts the next video. It’s set in the Haus, in the kitchen, where Bitty is baking a pie. Apple, from the looks of it. Bitty can’t remember when Jack took the video. He looks around the screen, waiting for someone else to walk into frame, but it doesn’t happen. The video shuts off after only fourteen seconds, just as Bitty’s starting to turn around.

Bitty frowns, feeling strange that he’s in a solo video. He starts the next one up and it’s a relief to see that it’s just Lardo. Jack must be getting individual videos of everyone on the team. He writes down ‘Lardo’ next to the name of the file in his notebook and when he looks up he does a double take. Ransom and Holster are on screen now, and as Bitty watches, Chowder walks in with Farmer. Bitty watches himself enter the room next, looking down at his phone and he remembers now when Jack was filming this. The camera follows Bitty as he walks into Chowder, not having seen him. Bitty can hear Jack laugh from behind the camera.

After that, there’s another video of Bitty baking. Then one of him on the ice. Then another with Bitty in the distance, meandering down the sidewalk with a coffee from Annie’s.

Bitty’s mouth dries out and his heart starts racing.

The next video is Bitty studying in the Haus kitchen with Nursey and Dex. Even though there are others in the shot, Bitty is clearly the focus.

Same with the next group video; Bitty with Lardo and Chowder on the reading room. He’s centre frame.

Bitty has trouble clicking on the next video and realises it’s because his hands are shaking. He holds them up in front of his face and can see his fingers quiver. His insides feel jittery too, now that he’s stopped focussing on the videos.

The videos of… Bitty. The team might be there too but Bitty can’t help but feel, but _know_ , that he’s the story.

Bitty sucks in a loud breath, having not breathed these last few moments as his brain caught up with what that meant.

Bitty is Jack’s story. Jack’s story is about love.

Bitty stands up. He sits down. He stands up and leaves his room and stops in front of Jack’s door and knocks.

He can’t seem to stand still, his foot taps and his hands knot together and his heart is the worst culprit of all.

Jack opens the door and Bitty stares up at him. Knowing that Jack handed him that memory card, wanting him to watch it. It’s actually very like him, now that Bitty’s thinking about it. He’s saying it without saying it. Jack’s always been more comfortable _showing_ he cares than expressing it verbally.

“I watched the videos,” Bitty says, and it comes out in a whisper.

Jack steps aside to let Bitty into his room.

Bitty feels strange immediately. He doesn’t think he’s ever really sat down in here before, just come in to offer advice on tie choice, or to drop off plates of pie, or a book Jack’s lent him.

Bitty stands in the centre of the room, foot still tapping, hands still clasped.

Jack shuts the door behind him. The snick of the lock causes Bitty to jump.

“Sorry.” Jack obviously noticed.

Bitty turns to face him and shakes his head. “It’s alright. I’m just a little… well, nervous.”

Bitty takes in the way Jack’s standing, hands curled by his side and expression oddly blank, like he’s trying hard to make it so. He thinks Jack might be feeling the same.

Bitty drops his hands by his sides. “Gosh, we’re being a bit…” He can’t think of a word.

“Do you want to sit down?” Jack offers, gesturing to his chair.

Bitty sits and Jack goes to his bed.

“I watched the videos.” Bitty says again, trying to restart a conversation but not knowing what else he should say.

“I wanted you to,” Jack says softly, looking down at the carpet.

“There were, uh, a lot of me.”

“They’re all of you,” Jack corrects.

“Some are with the team,” Bitty points out.

Jack shakes his head and looks up to Bitty with a sad smile. “They may be in them, but they’re all of you. That’s why I hadn’t show them to you.”

Jack’s honesty is making Bitty feel unsettled. Not uncomfortable, but until a few minutes ago, he had literally no idea, not even an inkling, that Jack was feeling that way about him.

Bitty considers whether or not he’ll ask the obvious next question, or go for something lighter. He asks, feeling like he should when Jack’s in a place where he’s willing to talk about his emotions. “Why show me them now?”

Jack looks down again, and he rubs his hands over the quilt on his bed.

“There’s no one reason,” he says eventually, looking back up to Bitty. “A bit what you said about my project, but more… I was almost there anyway.”

“There?”

“Ready to tell you. I’ve liked you for a while now.” Bitty nods, thinking of how the videos stretch back months. “I was close to convincing myself I should go for it, but, I, well.” Jack shrugs and moves himself back onto the bed, pulling his legs up and crossing them. “Sometimes I have trouble moving past imagining the worst things that can happen when I do something.”

“Jack.”

“It’s fine. That’s part of who I am.”

The way he says it, Bitty knows that he doesn’t have to be worried. Jack’s telling the truth about how he feels and thinks. He really was going to tell Bitty soon.

“Thank you for telling—well, for _showing_ me.”

Bitty wants to hold Jack’s hand as he says it, but he doesn’t want Jack to think he’s just amusing him, or that it’s a gesture inspired by pity.

It wouldn’t be that at all. Bitty’s had his own feelings for Jack, feelings that may even stretch back longer than Jack’s for him. If Bitty takes Jack’s hand, it’s because he wants to, not because he thinks Jack wants him to.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Sure, Bittle.”

“Can I come sit next to you first?”

Jack’s jaw drops and Bitty thinks he’s going to say no.

Jack nods.

Bitty smiles gratefully at Jack and sits perpendicular to him on the bed, crossing his legs. He lets himself take the time to look at Jack, running his eyes over Jack’s hair, down his nose, stopping at his lips, looking at his arms. Bitty doesn’t mind if Jack can see him, not with what he’s about to say.

“I don’t want you to think I’m saying this just because of the videos, and the fact that now I know that you… that you… care for me,” Bitty settles on.

He takes a deep breath, and then he picks up Jack’s hand from where it’s resting on the bed.

Jack’s eyebrows rise and Bitty tries to give him a comforting smile. He’s nervous though—again, still—and it feels wobbly on his face.

“Jack. I-” The words catch in his throat. He finds that he can’t look at Jack while he says it, so he looks down at their hands instead. He never realised Jack’s were so big compared to his. His palm is at least half an inch wider.

He runs over sentences in his head, aware all the while that Jack’s eyes are on him.

“I’m not saying this because of the videos,” Bitty repeats. “I’m saying it because it’s how I feel, how I’ve felt for a while.”

Bitty swallows, trying to catch his nerves at he does. “I like you. I really like you.”

Something in Bitty unlocks with those first few words. He didn’t realise he’d been so weighted down with his feelings, but it’s like he’s light now. His lungs expand as he sucks in a breath, and he’s starting to smile with certainty.

“Sometimes when I look at you… I’m just happy for no reason. I like watching you read, and hearing your voice. I like that you ask me for help sometimes, with class or with hockey, or with talking to the frogs. I really like your hair. And your hands,” Bitty adds, holding the one of Jack’s he’s been playing with up between them.

He locks eyes with Jack when he does and Jack’s smiling. The first smile since he first walked into Bitty’s room all those hours ago. Bitty likes that too. He likes even more the look of hope on Jack’s face, and the way his smile pulls higher on the right, which means he’s truly happy.

“I like you, Jack Zimmermann.” Bitty declares, looking straight at Jack. “And you like me too.”

It’s like Bitty’s filled himself with sunshine for how warm he feels right now. He’s got rosy cheeks for sure.

“Bittle. Bitty,” Jack whispers. His eyes are darting back and forth between Bitty’s, crinkled at the corner from his smile.

Jack reaches a hand up to Bitty and wipes his fingers across Bitty’s cheeks. “You’re crying.”

Bitty brings his own hand up to his face to check and his fingertips touch wetness. “Oh. I didn’t realise.”

“Here, I’ve got tissues.” Jack leans across him to reach for the box of tissues on his desk.

Bitty holds himself still. Jack’s very close to him. He looks down and can see up close the back of Jack’s head, and his neck, and the top of his spine under his shirt. Bitty breathes out and Jack’s hair rustles. Jack shudders.

He pulls back slowly, and finds Bitty’s eyes with his own. Bitty blinks. He thinks he’s stopped crying now.

Jack’s still very close. He pulls a tissue out of the box and uses it to wipe away tears from Bitty’s cheeks. Bitty sucks in his bottom lip, waiting for Jack to finish.

Jack doesn’t move any further away when he is. Bitty can actually see a few freckles on his cheeks, and a tiny patch of grey in his left eye. He’s gorgeous.

Bitty tells him.

Jack blinks several times quickly, then smiles and ducks his head.

Bitty doesn’t think he’s ever made anyone bashful before. It’s nice.

It’s so simple to reach a hand up and push his fingers gently through Jack’s hair. Jack sighs out and Bitty feels it on his collarbone.

Bitty gets a sudden desire to hug Jack, so he does. Wraps his other arm right around Jack’s shoulder and brings him in. Jack’s stiff for a moment, but then his hands slide around Bitty’s back and Bitty sighs out.

“You’re a good hugger,” he says into Jack’s neck

“Uh, thanks.”

Hugging Jack is momentous. It’s perfect. Like your own pillow after a week away, or his mama’s ice tea on a hot day. If Bitty could, he’d bottle up this feeling to use on a rainy day.

Bitty yawns noisily in Jack’s ear and Jack pulls back, keeping his hands resting lightly on Bitty.

“It’s pretty late, eh. You should go get some sleep.”

“Don’t want to leave yet,” Bitty argues through another yawn.

Jack smiles at him. “I’ll be here in the morning.”

Bitty pouts and Jack’s eyes flick down to his mouth.

“I promise,” Jack adds, bringing a hand up to cup Bitty’s cheek.

Bitty sighs out and leans into Jack’s hand.

“I guess since you’ve promised. I am pretty tired.”

Jack laughs softly, then leans in. Bitty’s breath stutters down his throat, but Jack simply presses a kiss to his forehead.

“I’ll walk you to your door.” Jack stands up and holds a hand out for Bitty.

“I’m just across the hall.”

“I know.” Jack keeps his hand outstretched, palm upwards.

Bitty puts his hand in Jack’s and stands up. It’s just as nice as their hug.

Jack leads Bitty, who—now that he’s standing for some reason—realises his body is so heavy with sleep. Hid eyelids close to shut, and his legs are dragging more than lifting.

The Haus is quiet and dark, except for the light streaming out from Jack’s room into the corridor.

“Do I need to carry you in?” Jack teases, when Bitty takes several seconds to convince his arm to raise to open his door.

“Oh, hush,” Bitty replies, squeezing Jack’s hand and too tired to think of anything more complex to say.

He gets his door open then turns to Jack.

“See you in the morning?” He just has to confirm it one last time.

Jack nods. “Yeah.”

Bitty drops Jack’s hand and stares at him another moment before stepping into his room and shutting the door, making his way in a daze to his bed, shedding his clothes on the way. He lies beneath his sheets, staring at the ceiling and going over his night for only a minute or two before he’s fast asleep, where the same memories play themselves out until he’s woken by sunlight in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted to [tumblr](http://17piesinseptember.tumblr.com/post/157638312656/love-by-jack-zimmermann-a-zimbits-fic-33k)


End file.
